


of Devils and Canaries

by Beeze



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Birds of Prey startup, DC meets Marvel, F/M, heroes fangirling over other heroes, idiots in hardcore crush mode, lady friendships, lawyers by day vigilantes by night, one big happy comic universe, so many DC easter eggs it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beeze/pseuds/Beeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Laurel Lance and Matt Murdock meet and one time they decide that it's really getting old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laurel Lance Meets Daredevil

**Author's Note:**

> I said I'd do it and I did it. The crossover fic you maybe didn't know you needed or maybe the crossover fic that you've been waiting for. I don't know, but I certainly hope you don't hate it! :)

Hell’s Kitchen was an interesting place. 

It was dark and corrupt and infected with men who had the power to bring it all burning to the ground. It reminded Laurel of the Glades, of Starling City and it made her skin itch. 

She was only there for the weekend. Visiting an old friend from law school that had taken a job in a mid-level law firm in Hell’s Kitchen. “You wouldn’t believe the crime statistics,” Jessica had told her. “The amount of double dealings and backyard corruption?” Laurel could practically hear her shudder over the phone. “It’s everywhere, a sickness, and it’s like no matter how hard we try there’s no curing it. We do the best that we can, but it just seems like everyone who’s good and honest pays the piper.” 

Laurel sighed and said, “But you gotta try, right?” 

Jessica laughed. “Exactly.” 

Yeah, Laurel knew _exactly_ how that was. 

She opted for a hotel room instead of staying with Jessica. She didn’t want to put Jessica out, and since the trip _was_ for her surprise 30 th birthday party it wasn’t like she could clear it with her beforehand. The party went perfectly. Everyone screamed, “surprise!” at the right time and Jessica cried happy tears and ate two pieces of cake. 

Laurel may or may not have had three, but in her defense they were really small pieces. 

She left when the booze started flowing more freely. She wasn’t tempted, not even a little, but she could feel Jessica watching her and decided to call it a night so her friend could enjoy all the margaritas she wanted without the guilt weighing her down. 

“You don’t have to go!” Jessica assured her. 

“I know, I know,” Laurel said, hugging her tight. “The flight took a lot out of me. I’m beat!” 

Jessica hugged her back even tighter. “I’ve barely gotten to see you!” 

“I don’t leave until Monday morning so we can do brunch tomorrow or whatever works best for you!”

Jessica released her and starting bouncing up and down. “Oh! There’s this great little mom and pop place downtown and they have the absolute best cannoli. The first time I ever had it I thought of you. We should totally go there for a late lunch?” Ah, yes. Laurel had been obsessed with cannoli back in college. They were her go-to junk food when it came time to study for finals. It made Laurel a little warm and fuzzy inside that Jessica had remembered. 

Laurel grinned at her old friend. “You’re too good to me.”

“You deserve the best, Dinah,” Jessica said with a wink. Laurel rolled her eyes and managed a quick look of indignation. 

When Jessica had found out that Laurel’s first name was Dinah and that she just went by her middle name, Jessica took it upon herself to _only_ call her Dinah. “That’s my mother’s name!” Laurel had shouted. Jessica’s eyes had only widened and the need to call her Dinah had only increased. Laurel gave up the fight their second week into law school and Jessica had not so secretly considered it a grand victory. 

“I’ll pick you up a little after one tomorrow, okay? And call me as soon as you get back to the hotel. I know Starling City isn’t great, but Hell’s Kitchen is no joke either. You took self-defense classes, right? But maybe I should walk down with you? You rented a car, yeah?” 

Laurel only laughed. “If you walked down with me then you would walk back by yourself, so no. I'll be fine. And yes, I rented a car. And I’ve been, um, taking a lot of defense classes as of late.” 

“Oh, good! A girl should always know how to kick a little ass.” They both giggled at one another and Laurel kissed her on the cheek and waved goodbye to the people she knew and the people she had just met. 

It was quiet outside of the building. It had long since fallen dark and a few of the street lamps were broken. It was eerie, but Laurel didn’t feel as unsettled as she would have a few years ago. She could handle herself.

Her phone buzzed and it was a text from Nyssa. Apparently the delivery guy was taking too long and Laurel didn’t have enough sufficient snacks in her apartment. 

_You’ll live_ , she texted back.

_Ugh_ , was Nyssa’s response.

Laurel was distracted, and that was the only reason she could think as to how some goon got one up on her as he grabbed her by the arm, yanked her around until her back slammed against the wall. Her head connected with the brick and the crack that emitted around them rung in her ears. He reached for her, she wasn’t sure whether it was to grab her purse or hit her, but she didn’t let him decide. 

Her left arm shot out, grabbing his right one, turning it into a painful arch before curling her right hand into a fist and shoving it in his throat. He choked, gasped for breath, hands flapping to his meaty neck and stumbled backwards as she arched her right foot up, careening her left leg into the air and connecting her boot clad foot right into his face. He tripped over his feet, landing on the concrete floor with a heavy thud.

Laurel stretched for her phone that was lying on the ground. Her case was a little scraped, but other than that her phone was still intact. She quickly punched in 9-1-1 and waited. The operator picked up on the second ring.

“A man slipped on the sidewalk and hit his head pretty hard. He’s breathing, but out cold. It’s right out front of 540 Meyers. Thank you.” She hung up as quickly as she called. She slid her phone in her jacket pocket and picked up her purse before slinging it over her shoulder. 

“Huh,” a voice said from behind her. Laurel spun on her heels, arms raised and fists clenched, but the very last thing she had been expecting was a man in a red catsuit crouched on a fire escape landing. “Here I was ready to rescue a woman from a mugging and turns out I was in for a show.” 

“Daredevil,” she said. His lips curved upward into a twisted, but amused grin. 

“That’s what they call me,” he leapt down from the fire escape with an ease that told her he’d done it a million times before. He walked towards her and it reminded her of a cat almost, all grace and ease and intent, but with just a hint of lethality. “That jab was straight out of the ring.” His voice was rough, and it was dark but she was almost sure he had some stubble. 

Laurel shrugged, not taking her eyes off him. “I have a friend who’s a boxer. He showed me a thing or two.”

Daredevil laughed at that. “A thing or two,” he echoed, disbelief caked into his voice. “You know, most people wouldn’t stand around and chat with a masked vigilante.”

_Masked vigilante._

That was an interesting way for him to describe himself. She had heard all about the infamous devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Laurel wouldn’t say she was obsessed, but other vigilantes, other people who dedicated themselves to fighting crime in their cities- it was something that fascinated her. And Daredevil had done exactly that. He fought for his city, no matter that they turned against him, and in Laurel Lance’s book that made him a damn hero. And he should call himself as such. 

She didn’t say any of that, though. Instead she went with another part of the truth. “I’m from Starling City.”

He laughed at that and it turned out that Daredevil had a very nice laugh. It was warm and rich and made her smile despite the fact she was standing outside in a strange neighborhood at ten o’clock at night with a man who had attacked her passed out on the sidewalk at her feet. 

“So you’re used to masked vigilantes,” he said. He quirked his head just the slightest. “And there’s a lot of them there.”

“We’re practically overrun,” she joked. This time it was her lips curved upward in a grin. Oh, if only he knew.

He smiled again. His head turned to the side, almost as if he heard something, but Laurel could only hear the honking of steady traffic from the main street a few blocks over. He turned back to her. “Duty calls,” he said. “Stay safe.”

He latched back onto the fire escape he had jumped from only minutes before, pulled himself up as easily as Laurel breathed and scaled upward. His muscles moved underneath his suit, but he didn’t slow, only climbed and climbed and climbed until he reached the roof and then he pulled himself up and was gone.

“That is some serious upper body strength,” she murmured. The devil of Hell’s Kitchen was even more impressive than she had originally thought. And she absolutely loved it.


	2. Laurel Lance Meets Matt Murdock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am shameful and obviously don't care about my grades because here is chapter two that is double the length of the last chapter. Enjoy!

“And this man attacked you?”

Laurel had tossed and turned all night. Her head had an uncomfortable ache where it had impacted with the wall and she couldn’t stop thinking about Daredevil. She played the words they had spoken to each other over and over in her head, replaying every move and picturing the heavy ease that he carried himself with.

It felt a lot to her like when she had first met the Hood. Before she found out that it was the ex love of her life, back when he was just a man with a bow and a mission to clean up Starling City. She hadn’t a clue about him or what he looked like, but he had called to her. For awhile, after she had found out that Oliver Queen and the Hood were one in the same, she thought it was just their connection making itself known even through his mandated anonymity. Laurel thought now though, that it was what she had originally thought. She was drawn to what he was trying to do, to his commitment to bringing justice no matter the price. His dedication to helping others had sang so vibrantly to her.

She didn’t feel that way about Oliver or the Arrow anymore. She still admired his strength and the way he gave himself to the city, but she couldn’t ignore the way he let Malcolm Merlyn free. Oliver had protected him. Oliver had risked his life for him, and Malcolm Merlyn didn’t deserve a heads up on today’s weather let alone Oliver putting himself and the city at risk to save his worthless life.

These thoughts had kept her up all night. She was only able to grab a few hours of sleep and once the sun rose she decided to stop trying, grabbed her cell phone, dialed Nyssa and told her all about the events of last night.

“Yes, but I took care of it. I used that kick you showed me.” The kick that Nyssa had made her do over and over and over until her knees ached and her toes bled, but all in a days work, right?

“I don’t see how he was even given the opportunity. You didn’t hear him approach?”

Laurel paused.

“Well, I was a little preoccupied dealing with somebody whining about my lack of food,” she teased. She could practically hear Nyssa’s indignation through the phone. 

“I was not whining,” she sputtered. “I was pointing out your complete lack of nutritional sustenance!”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Daredevil was nice, though,” she said, taking a drink out of her water bottle. 

Nyssa was quiet on the other end. Her voice was steady when she asked, “You met the devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” 

“Yep.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little bird. What happened?” 

She shrugged even though she knew Nyssa couldn’t see her. “Nothing. He showed up to save me, but I was already saving myself. We exchanged a few words and he was off. The end.”

Nyssa was quiet again. “I know you admire him, Laurel,” she began. “But do keep your distance. The devil of Hell’s Kitchen is reckless as he is brave and has many enemies.” 

“You don’t think that I can handle myself.” That stung. She was truly tired of having to defend herself, at least metaphorically speaking. From Oliver, from her father, from all the little remarks of “you’re a lawyer, Laurel” as if that defined her. As if it were the only thing that she could ever be. As if she weren’t good enough to take up a mask and kick a little ass. She was _trying_. Day in and day out she was training, bettering herself, and none of it seemed to ever matter. She expected that from just about everyone she encountered, but not Nyssa.

“That is not at all what I am saying,” Nyssa objected. “The League has been aware of the devil for some time and you do not understand how thick his roots grow. What I mean, however, is that Black Canary has enough enemies. She doesn’t need to add the enemies of the Eastern Coast of America, does she?”

Laurel thought of Malcolm Merlyn, of Count Vertigo, and of Ra’s al Ghul and answered, “No. No she doesn’t.”

Nyssa’s satisfaction was piercing through her voice, “Good. Take care of yourself and we’ll work on sensing attackers before they crack our heads against brick walls as soon as you get back.” The line went dead and Laurel shook her head. Nyssa wasn’t into saying goodbye over the phone, just giving the last word and hanging up straight away.

Laurel slid out of bed and trudged into the shower. Lunch with Jessica wasn’t for a few hours, but she had thought she might get ready early and do a little shopping in in the little outside mall by her hotel. She found a few things: a blazer, some blouses and a necklace that made her think of Thea so she bought it without hesitation. While in the hotel lobby she saw a mug with ‘I heart Hell’s Kitchen’ plastered on it and giggled to herself as she bought it, fully intending to give it to Nyssa. The look on her face would be well worth the overpriced purchase.

One o’clock came quickly and Laurel was genuinely happy to see Jessica again. They chattered away as Jessica drove them to their destination. It was easy talking to Jessica. Jessica still thought her sister had died six years ago, and was a wonderfully tactful friend who didn’t ask Laurel about things like alcohol or Tommy. It was nice, just them reminiscing about law school and the crazy things they had gotten up to together.

It felt normal and she hadn’t felt normal in _years._

The little café Jessica had bragged about had a nice outdoor patio that they decided to eat in. It was so nice out they both didn’t even hesitate when the hostess asked if they’d prefer to eat outside.

Laurel was digging into her crepes, laughing at Jessica’s reenactment of an eccentric older client when Jessica had broken off and yelled, “Matt! Hey! It’s Jessica. How are you?” 

Laurel didn’t turn her head to see who Jessica was talking to, so intent on the strawberry crepes in front of her. 

“Jessica Hartley. As if I could forget the voice of the girl who screamed her head off at the television during the super bowl. Three years in a row.” His voice washed over Laurel and it felt like déjà vu. She swallowed her last bite of crepe and turned her head to the side. She didn’t know what she expected. Daredevil in his catsuit just casually strolling down the street making conversation with her old college buddy? 

The man before her was all casual handsome wrapped up in a light beard, an impeccable suit, and a dark mop of hair that did things for her. He was tall and thin and his smile was wide and bright. The dark glasses and the cane in front of him that he used to parse his path to her and Jessica’s table told her he was blind. 

“I mean, you heard what was happening in that game! It was insanity and bullshit and infuriating!” Matt just laughed, and that laugh struck her again just like his voice had. But he couldn’t- no. Laurel shook her head of any thoughts of thinking like that. No way that the first guy she ran into on her visit to Hell’s Kitchen was also Daredevil, who also happened to be a blind working professional. No. “What are you doing here?”

“Foggy and I are meeting up for lunch. This place has the best breakfast pizza. His words, not mine.” His cane connected with the chair sitting at the head of the table.

“You should sit with us!” Jessica exclaimed, standing up. “I’m here with an old friend, but you should join us! Matt Murdock, this is Laurel Lance, an old friend from law school. She’s visiting from Starling City.” Laurel thought Jessica was trying to help Matt sit down, but he took the chair for himself in one fluid motion.

“Nice to meet you,” she said sticking her hand out and inwardly smacked herself upside the head. He seemed to anticipate it, sticking his hand out as well. It was a few inches away and above where hers was, but she met it quickly grasping his calloused palm in her own. His hand was rough and warm and he shook her hand firmly. She gave it right back and smiled at him, a habit of courtesy, but even though she knew he couldn’t see it, she meant it.

“You as well,” he returned. 

“Three things,” Jessica said, still standing next to Matt. “One: you both have alliteration in your names and it’s kind of freaking me out. Two: I’m going to grab some more coffee for us all. Three: you two are both lawyers with bleeding hearts and you should talk about that. Tell him about CNRI!” Jessica pointed at her urgently as she scurried away back inside the café.

“So,” he said, turning his head in her direction. “Tell me about CNRI, Laurel Lance.” 

She laughed, “Oh, it was a law firm I worked for: City Necessary Resources Initiative. We helped people in legal need who couldn’t really afford legal help and were more often than not being stomped on by the big corporations of Starling City. You know how it goes.” 

He made sort of a humming noise in the back of his throat. “I do. But you don’t work there anymore?” 

“Unfortunately, no. It was destroyed in the terrorist attack on the Glades and we haven’t really rebuilt. If we ever will. It was hard enough getting funds when we were up and running. It’s a hefty battle doing it while we’re literally in shambles.” She paused and took a drink of her coffee. It was more cold than it was warm and her cup was almost empty. Bless Jessica for going to get more. “I work for the DA’s office now.” 

“The DA’s office! Color me impressed.” He _did_ look impressed, and she couldn’t help but blush.

Laurel laughed again, unable to stop herself. She supposed it _did_ sound impressive, but it wasn’t the sort of work she had ever sought out to do. She had loved every second of every day at CNRI. Not when they lost, and the big rich assholes of Starling City won, but when she succeeded, when she helped someone, when she gave them just a little bit of hope- she had felt truly alive. She tried to implement that at the DA’s office and sometimes it took, but a lot of the time she felt like the corporate big bads she spent so much time fighting against. 

“It’s not that great,” she admitted. “There’s a lot of bureaucratic red tape that holds me back. A lot of time I feel like I’m performing, but you know, someone has to do it-“

Matt snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “That’s where I know your voice. I’ve been trying to place it, but I had the hardest time.” She could only look at him, wide eyed as she tried to piece together what he was saying. “You were on the news. Talking about Oliver Queen being the Arrow. Or not the Arrow, as you were saying.” 

She laughed. Again. She was doing that a lot. 

“I can’t believe you guys got that coverage all the way over here.”

He nodded. “We did. It was a big deal, uncovering the identity of a vigilante.”

She was quick to reply, “Well, they were wrong. Oliver is certainly no vigilante.”

“Just another billionaire brat?” Matt asked. There was something about his tone that she just couldn’t place. It wasn’t certainty, an assurance that he had Oliver’s number, but not exactly disbelief either.

“Something like that,” she responded. “What about you? Jess said you’re a bleeding heart lawyer like myself. What do you do here in Hell’s Kitchen?”

He smiled at her, and she knew he couldn’t see her, but she smiled right back. 

“Just a tiny little firm.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a polished business card. “Nothing fancy. No DA’s office.” Laurel found herself blushing again as she took the card for him. 

“Nelson & Murdock,” she read, running her fingers over the script. “Your own firm,” she practically whispered it. “That is way more impressive than working for the DA.” He smiled again and Laurel decided then and there that he had a breathtaking smile.

“Is it?” He asked, that smile still taunting her.

“Most definitely.”

Jessica came back then with two to-go coffee cups and one steaming cup that she set in front of Matt. “I even remembered how you take your coffee, Murdock. You’re welcome,” she teased gently. “Now stop hitting on my best girl because we have a movie to catch. I think my giant purse can sneak these coffees in, don’t worry.” She winked at Laurel and Laurel could only pray that her coffee didn’t take a dive in that sea of cloth Jessica called a purse.

Matt nodded and looked over at Jessica. “Foggy should be here any minute. You two have a nice time. It was nice meeting you, Laurel.” He stuck his hand back out between and them and Laurel grasped it, letting her fingers curl over his palm and rest before giving it a firm shake. “And if you ever need representation here on the East Coast you have my card." 

Laurel was pretty sure what escaped her mouth was a giggle, but she couldn’t be sure. She felt the weight of his card in her left hand as it burned into her palm. “Oh, yes,” she teased right back. “You’ll be my first call.” 

He squeezed her hand. “Glad to hear it.”

“Alright, alright,” Jessica broke in. “We’re gonna be late and you need to get better pick up lines, Murdock. Geesh.”

“Will do!” Matt called after them. 

They walked arm and arm to the parking lot across the street from the café and the coffee Jessica bought her was a nice relief from the cold breeze that had just picked up.. They climbed into the car and after securing her seat belt in place, Laurel looked up and saw Matt at their table with another light haired man approaching him who sat down next to him a few seconds later. 

“Is that his friend?” Laurel asked.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, that’s Foggy. The Nelson to his Murdock.” Laurel only nodded, but she could see Jessica sneaking glances as the car pulled out of the parking lot. “You like him.”

“What?” Laurel practically squawked.

“You like Matt,” she said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “That’s okay! All the girls like Matt.”

“But not you?” Laurel gave her a pointed look. Jessica wasn’t dead and Matt Murdock was attractive. Like _very_ attractive.

“He’s too serious for me,” she said simply, waving her hand dismissively. “But tell me what it is? You like the dark brooding types? Or is it his ass?” 

“I didn’t even see his ass!” Laurel objected, indignation sweeping through her.

Jessica shook her head. “What a shame. Platonic relationship or not, he has a nice ass.”

Laurel hung her head, covering her face with her hands as she laughed.

That night when she was back in her hotel she folded her jacket over a chair and watched as the business card Matt had slid into her hands fluttered to the floor. She picked it up, running her fingers over the script again before sticking it into her wallet. Laurel clasped her wallet shut, slid it back into her purse and got ready for bed.

She couldn’t tell the future, after all. Maybe she would need legal representation while on the East Coast one day.

Crazier things had happened.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Black Canary. :)


	3. Black Canary Meets Matt Murdock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'd just like to say a big thank you to everyone who has commented and given kudos. I honestly thought maybe ten people would read this, and in reality there are so many of you!! I adore you all. And it's just so nice, really! I love hearing your thoughts and how much you too love this pairing. I've already planned out a sequel to this, but it will only be a long, long one-shot and it'll deal with Laurel becoming a metahuman because I need that in my life and you know, Matt helping her learn to control her abilities. 
> 
> Anyways, this story: I'm actually pretty nervous about this chapter! A lot happens (I'm serious A LOT) and I'm a little worried it won't run smoothly. Also, I drop a lot of DC easter eggs. I went a little crazy, to be honest. I'd be lying if this chapter isn't a reaction to the 20 second screentime Laurel got this week on Arrow. The writers won't give me development, I'll guess I'll write it myself sort of situation?
> 
> This chapter has Lady Spellbinder which I only remembered vaguely so I decided to ~update her. A sort of "what would she and her abilities be like if The Flash took a shot at her" sort of thing. Creative liberties and all that. ;)

“I have to go to Gotham,” Laurel said. She drew her left arm up to protect her face and dug her heels into the ground. “Wanna come with?”

Nyssa laughed, quick and short. “I would not be welcome in Gotham City.”

Laurel kicked out and Nyssa caught her leg effortlessly, but missed the jab to her shoulder that knocked her off balance. They spent every morning before Laurel had to show up at the DA’s office in Ted’s gym training and Nyssa drilled her and drilled her and drilled her until Laurel wasn’t sure she was going to be able to get up off the mat. She liked training with Nyssa though. There was a certain respect for her that she never got from Ted. Not that she didn’t appreciate all that Ted had done for her, he even lent out his space for her to train with someone else.

No, she was very grateful and she always would be. It was just nice to have someone train her who looked at her and didn’t see sad Laurel, or broken Laurel, or bruised Laurel- Nyssa just saw _her_ and she _respected_ her and there weren’t enough words in any human language to express how warm that made her feel.

“I never would have thought a ‘welcome’ was what the Heir to the Demon needed to go anywhere.” Laurel grinned as Nyssa narrowed her eyes. 

“What lies in Gotham for you, little bird?” She asked, picking up a water bottle on the side of the mat and throwing it to Laurel. Laurel caught it one handed and twisted the top off, gulping in as much as she could to help cool her down. “Another school friend who talks too much?”

“Jessica is nice!”

Nyssa rolled her eyes. “Perhaps.” Laurel threw her bottle cap at Nyssa and choked on her water as it pinged off of Nyssa’s forehead and fell to the floor. Nyssa only glared at her. “That was not only childish, but rude.”

Through her giggles she said, “I would apologize, but it wouldn’t be sincere. Back to the topic at hand, I’m going to Gotham to help out . . . a friend.”

“What sort of friend?” She was still glaring about the bottle cap, but her body shifted and Laurel knew she was interested.

“A kind of friend who takes part in fighting crime. 

Nyssa clucked her tongue and folded her arms across her chest. “If this friend is-“

“You don’t have to come, but I know you’ve been itching to really smack someone around. Not to mention if you don’t come I might be tempted to buy you another mug.”

“That thing you purchased for me in Hell’s Kitchen is a monstrosity. I plan on breaking it the first chance that I get.”

“I saw you drinking out of it this morning!”

“All the other mugs were dirty. What would you have suggested I have done?”

Laurel shrugged as she reached for a towel and wiped the sweat from her face. “I don’t know you could have washed one?”

“I would return the sentiment right back to you. But save your money, Laurel. Off to Gotham City we shall go.”

 

* * *

 

Laurel had been to Gotham before. A few times in college and once when she was little with her parents and Sara to see the circus.

Sara had been terrified of clowns and had buried her face into Laurel’s side every time they passed one. Laurel had just wound her arms around her skinny shoulders and pressed her closer. Sara had liked the trapeze artists the most, her little face filled with awe as she watched them twist and turn in the air. On the drive back to her grandmother’s house that was just inside New York City she and Sara ate so much cotton candy that their dad had to pull over and let them both puke their little brains out on the side of the freeway.

That was her favorite childhood vacation. By far.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Lance to my Gordon. You don’t write, you don’t call. I’m starting to think _you_ think you’re better than me.”

Laurel only smirked at the woman leaning back in her chair, arms folded across her lap. “Babs,” she said. “You called and I came. If that’s not devotion I don’t know what it is." 

Barbara nodded. “You’re loyal, I’ll give you that.” She passed her attention to Nyssa who stood next to Laurel with questions in every line of her body. “Who’s your friend?”

Nyssa stepped forward. “I am Nyssa. Daughter of Ra’s al Ghul. Heir to the Demon.” 

Barbara placed her hands on the wheels of her chair and pursed her lips. “You ever think about just going with ‘Hey, I’m Nyssa’?”

Laurel watched Nyssa tilt her head to the side and all Laurel could do was keep her lips shut tight to prevent any laughter coming out. “No,” Nyssa said slowly.

“Okay, straight to the point and interesting introduction. I like you. Follow me.” Barbara led them down a corridor, the lights dimming behind them as they went. “I’m sure this isn’t as fancy as your Arrow cave, but-“

“It’s not my Arrow cave,” Laurel said quickly.

Barbara paused and then began again, “I set up a little section for you and your friend Nyssa al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, Heir to the Demon.” Nyssa stood straighter with each step and Laurel could tell that Barbara was barely containing a snicker as she said each word. “It’s just gonna be us, so get used to my smiling face and my breathtaking voice.”

Two metal doors faced them at the end of the hallway and opened up automatically upon their approach. They looked heavy, rusting, but their movements were silent as they glided parallel of each other and paired up against their respective walls. The overwhelming amount of computers that greeted them was more or less what Laurel had expected. Devices blinked, moved and made noises and none of it made a lick of sense to Laurel who still had trouble figuring out how to put events into her calendar on her iPhone. She spied a box of Twinkies in a cabinet next to Barbara’s batarang.

“Twinkies?” Laurel teased. Barbara whipped her head around and glared.

“They’re delicious and you damn well know it.”

Laurel tossed her head back laughing as she dropped her duffle bag on the metal table. She felt her hair brush the back of her shoulders as she shrugged out of her jacket and ran a hand through it, admiring the blonde strands- her natural hair color. She had died it brown when she was in college, thinking it made the baby fat in her face slim down and made the angles in her face more pronounced. She had felt so mature. Oh, how naive she was.

She opened up her duffle bag and pulled out her Black Canary outfit. Laurel didn’t leave to tug her normal clothes off and pull on the suit. There wasn’t anything new to see and each of them were preoccupied with their own tasks. Oliver had made a joke once about her suit. That it was impractical and looked smothering, but he was wrong on all accounts. The buckles didn’t actually do anything, they were there for aesthetic purposes and plus, when assholes ran into them she knew it had to hurt. It was easy to move in, felt like a second skin, like she had been wearing it her whole life.

“Looking good, Black Canary,” Barbara complimented when she was done. “Here’s your ear piece. It’s a thing of beauty, you could get the shit knocked out of you and it’ll stay intact. I’ll be able to hear everything, communicate with you and vice versa and locate you with no issue. Here’s yours Heir to the Demon.” Barbara held it up and out, but Nyssa only stared at the tiny object between Barbara’s fingertips.

“I need no such device,” Nyssa said, scowl twisting her features.

Barbara stared, keeping her arm outstretched. “Look, I’m sure you’re a big badass. Just like the rest of us. However, this isn’t just your run of the mill pain in the ass you’re going to battle against. This is a metahuman pain in the ass. She has the ability to create illusions, your worst fears come to life and not only can she hurt you in these illusions, but she could even kill you. Your only hope to face her and come out on top is to take advantage of her weakness: she can’t control what she can’t see and she won’t be able to see me. And I will then be able to guide you through her illusions of crap and everyone gets to go home. Okay?”

Nyssa stared with her scowl firmly in place. She plucked the tiny earpiece from Barbara’s fingers and placed it into her ear. 

“So,” Laurel jumped in. Nyssa had been on edge since the moment they had landed and she preferred for her to save her- well, whatever it was that was building in her for when they needed it and not taking it out on their allies. “Metahuman with the ability to create illusions. Is that it?” 

Barb sighed. “Basically. Make sure you cover her eyes. She can’t create any sort of illusions without the ability to see so the quicker you blind her the better.” She paused. “I don’t mean literally blind her-“

“I know!”

“Delicacy is key.”

“You calling me delicate, Babs?” 

Barbara smiled, typing furiously away at her computer. “Any woman who can crash out of a window and on to a helicopter and maintain her wig and lipstick is a delicate and deadly creature and no one should ever underestimate her.” Laurel couldn’t help but snort. “You shouldn’t get any interference or even assistance from Batman. He’s in a mood and we’re not exactly on speaking terms and I’m pretty sure he knows we’ve teamed up, but Robin is always up for a good tumble and he can be pretty useful. Also, I hear Daredevil is in town-“ 

“Daredevil?” Laurel blurted out. 

Barbara nodded. “Yep, got reports last night he was seen stopping a kidnapping downtown. So if things get real hairy he might show up or maybe he’s left town. I don’t know for sure. Hell’s Kitchen isn’t that far over so it’s not a total stretch that he’d pop up. Although, I think that’s what has King Bat all tied up in knots. Or maybe it’s something personal. I don’t know. I never know anymore. I don’t get to know, apparently.”

There was a bitter tinge to Barbara’s words and Laurel knew better than to ask. Her relationship with Batman had always been a rocky one. Laurel hadn’t seen anything firsthand, had never actually met Batman, but a few late night talks had Barbara sharing some things and Laurel knew that while Barb used to idolize the Dark Knight of Gotham, their relationship was much more icy now. She knew that if Barbara wanted to talk she’d initiate it. And Laurel would be there when she was.

“Well, let us hope that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stays out of our way. Are we ready or do we need to do more talking?” 

Laurel bumped her shoulder into Nyssa’s and grabbed her mask. Gripping it in her hand she said, “We’re ready.”

“Have fun and remember that I’ve got your backs!” Barbara shouted after them. As she and Nyssa made their way out of the building she could hear Barbara in her ear, mostly asking questions that she knew Laurel would not answer and giving mandatory directions to both Laurel and Nyssa as to where Barbara knew Lady Spellbinder was located. 

“Is she always that friendly?” she questioned. “Or is it my sparkling personality that’s put her off? I definitely think it’s a her problem, right? I mean, I haven’t exactly heard great things about her sister, but then again Dick is pretty biased against people who _dare_ oppose Batman.”

Sister?! 

Nyssa had a sister? They had been friends for almost a year now, roommates for half of that and not once had Nyssa ever mentioned a sister. Not that Nyssa talked about much of her personal life. Laurel had found it to be a sensitive topic for her friend and had left it alone.

Laurel cleared her throat. 

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure. You can’t answer me. I’m still sad you’re not jumping from roof top to roof top. Like my mobile transportation is always available to you, but travel by roof tops-“ she sighed. “There’s nothing better. Make a right at the next stoplight.” 

This wasn’t the first time she had helped Barb. She had done it a handful of times before. Just the two of them, mostly when she was on the outs with Dick who also doubled as Robin and then there was the sticky relationship with Batman. Laurel was pretty sure there was something going on between Dick and Barb, but whenever Laurel started hinting around at it Barb gave her a wicked glare and Laurel ditched the topic in the trash as quickly as she could.

Laurel had met Barbara Gordon almost ten months ago and when she first met Barbara she was operating under the name Batgirl and had full use of her legs. They hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts what with Laurel happening upon Batgirl in a fight with three men. Laurel hadn’t even thought about it, she just threw herself into the thick of it, letting her arm fly and connect with some bad guy’s face as he had raised a tire iron poising to hit Batgirl from behind. 

Turned out that Batgirl didn’t appreciate the help and she had ripped into Laurel straight away. But they had moved past it and had grown from a sort of antagonistic relationship to a solid friendship, almost a team sort of dynamic.

Solid enough that Barb didn’t mind calling her every now and again to help with a particularly prickly bad guy. 

“Your destination is on the right,” Barbara told her evenly with the monotone voice of every GPS system Laurel had ever encountered.

“Funny.”

“Gotta amuse myself somehow, pretty bird. Spellbinder’s inside.” 

Turned out- Spellbinder wasn’t inside. She was outside. Waiting for them.

“We’re taking her alive,” Laurel shouted to Nyssa as men descended on them. Laurel was sure they were under the influence of Spellbinder and not actually here of their free will, but a fight was a fight. “I promised Barry and Cisco we’d bring her alive.” Everything happened too fast and the illusion Spellbinder attempted to thrust on her almost knocked the breath from her chest, but she could hear Barbara in her ear, soothing and calm and reassuring her, reminding her of the true reality. Both of the worlds merged into one and it took all of Laurel’s strength to listen to Barbara’s voice. 

_“It’s me. Oracle.”_

Her vision blurred.

_“You are the Black Canary.”_

Her head _ached_. 

_“Come on pretty bird.”_

She thought she was on her back. Maybe her knees. Maybe the ground was beneath her. Her cheek felt cool and rough all at the same time. 

_“You’re not weak. You were not made to be picked off by your enemies. You are a bird of prey. Get back up and show her what that means.”_

She hit the asphalt with her fists and pushed herself to her feet.

_A bird of prey._

She liked that. 

From the looks of it Nyssa hadn’t been immune to Lady Spellbinder’s abilities as Laurel watched her stumble around, but she blocked an attack from one of the men working for Spellbinder.

Laurel shook the last of Spellbinder’s abilities out of her head with a toss of her hair and made a beeline for the woman in purple who had a sinister smirk plastered across her face. She was focused on Nyssa, with a laugh dancing across her lips, but her head turned in the opposite direction of where Laurel was coming.

There was a man. Laurel was focused on Barbara’s past words- she was radio silent for now, probably working on Nyssa- _you were not made to be picked off by your enemies. You are a bird of prey_ \- Laurel couldn’t hear anything but those words. 

She recognized the man in his light suit and dark glasses and cane in hand with his other hand lifted up palm facing out. 

_Matt Murdock_.

Spellbinder was completely focused on him, rattling off something with a sneer on her face and Laurel took the opportunity offered to her. She strode forward, boots pounding on the ground, pulled her arm back and let her fist fly, connecting with the back of Spellbinder’s skull and she crumpled to the floor. 

“Oh,” Barbara said. “Knocking her unconscious. That certainly does the trick. How you feeling, pretty bird?” 

“My head hurts,” she replied. Barbara rattled off something else, but Laurel was focused on the man kneeling on the ground. His glasses were on the floor a few feet away from him. He looked shaken and Laurel knew that Spellbinder had crawled into his head as well.

“Hey,” Laurel said gently. She picked up Matt’s glasses off the ground, holding them carefully between her fingers. “Hey, you’re okay.” She reached out and grazed the skin of his hand, not wanting to startle him, but wanting him to know she was there. He reached out and gripped her hand like his fingers were made of steel. “It’s okay. It’s over." 

“Thank you,” he whispered. His fingers dug into the back of her hand so hard it almost hurt.

“I have your glasses,” Laurel whispered back. She pushed them into the palm of his free hand and he took them eagerly. He didn’t slip them on his face, but instead shoved them into his pocket before using both of his hands to grasp one of hers. She helped him to his feet. “That was a brave thing you did.” 

He smiled then, and his hands held to her fast. “Most people would call it stupid.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Most people. I happen to think anyone who puts themselves on the line in an effort to help is brave.” She squeezed his hand.

Nyssa’s voice cut through like a sheet of ice, “Black Canary. We need to leave.” 

Matt laughed. “You’re the Black Canary.” It wasn’t a question. “Of _course_ you are.”

“What does that mean?” Laurel asked him. His thumb ran over her knuckles so lightly it brought goose bumps along her arms and she blamed the rolling in her stomach from her encounter with Lady Spellbinder and not the lawyer with callused fingertips ghosting across her flesh.

He ignored her. “I’ve always wanted to meet you, you know and-“ he broke off laughing. “And here you are. The Black Canary.” She heard Nyssa huff from somewhere behind her. “You’re just as I imagined you to be.” 

“Is that a good thing?” Laurel wondered if he could hear the smile in her voice as clearly as she could.

“Yes. Very much, yes.” 

It was funny to her, that he had already met her and that they had chatted about their respective jobs and had even touched upon the masked heroes of Starling City, and he had no idea. It felt like lying. And in that moment she wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him that she was Laurel Lance and they had had coffee together a few months back, but that was dumb. Beyond ridiculous even. She swallowed the urge down and it was gone. 

“You should probably get going,” he let her hand go. “You’re attracting quite the crowd, Black Canary.” 

Laurel looked up and noticed a few people gathering around the edges of the street, some with their phones out snapping pictures, some whispering to each other, some clapping. 

“Yes, we are.” She’d think about it later that night as she was trying to sleep, but in the moment it didn’t even occur to her how he knew that.

“Thank you for the assistance,” he said, taking a step back, bowing his head towards her slightly and she still had those damn goose bumps. 

“That’s my job,” she teased. 

“Hey,” Barbara chirped. “Oracle to Black Canary. Stop flirting with bystanders and get your leather-covered butt back here. Oh, and don’t forget Lady Spellbinder. I wouldn’t want you to forget the most important part of the mission while you’re making heart eyes at your damsel in distress.” Laurel rolled her eyes and bit back a retort.

She looked over at Nyssa who was busy sedating Lady Spellbinder before slinging her over her shoulders. Nyssa gave her a stern look and Laurel nodded. She looked back to Matt who was still standing there, staring in her direction with a soft smile curving his lips. She bit her lip, unsure as to what she should say, but an angry huff from Nyssa had her turning on her heel, fake blonde hair flying, and headed over to where Nyssa stood. They used the shadows to make their way back through the alley and to Barbara’s getaway car. Laurel popped the trunk before Nyssa dropped her into it. Lady Spellbinder landed with a thud. 

“That was the most unpleasant battle I have endured in quite some time,” Nyssa informed her.

“Yeah,” Laurel agreed. “That was a rough one.”

“Oracle will accept thank you presents at any time,” Barbara added. Nyssa made a disgusted noise before yanking the piece of tech out of her ear and throwing it on the ground. It skipped along the asphalt before plopping into a puddle. 

“Um, did Heir to the Demon just throw my very expensive piece of tech in _water_?” Barbara’s voice was coated in homicide. 

“I’ll reimburse you,” Laurel said quickly. 

“You bet your sweet ass you’re gonna reimburse me! Do you have any idea how much that costs? Oh my god, you know, they don’t grow on trees, Laurel!” 

Laurel climbed into the car as she slid the device from her own ear and deposited it in a cup holder.

The drive back to Barbara’s headquarters was quiet, but tense. Nyssa looked wired and the set of her shoulders was sharp and heavy. If Laurel didn’t know any better she would think that Nyssa was shaking her leg. 

“Are you okay?” Laurel practically whispered her question, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. Nyssa looked at her quickly, her hair jumping in the air as her head snapped in Laurel’s direction.

“I will be fine,” she replied. Her voice was steady, sharp and riddled with anger.

“Nyssa,” Laurel began. “Are you- are you mad at me?” Laurel sounded small, even to her own ears. 

Nyssa looked affronted for just a second before looking away and staring straight ahead. Laurel didn’t think she was going to answer her. They continued on taking side streets until Laurel pulled the car into Barbara’s parking garage and put it in park.

“I am not angry with you, Laurel. I am, I am-“ Nyssa broke off with an angry laugh. “I am furious with myself. I have never met a metahuman in battle before and- I have met many foes and I have bested all of them and some of them slithered beneath my skin once or twice, but never has an enemy opened up my brain and made themselves at home. I am better than that, Laurel. Or I thought I was.” 

Laurel reached over, grabbing Nyssa’s hand off her lap and pulling it to rest between Laurel’s palms. She gave a disgruntled sigh before tugging her mask and wig off and then clasping Nyssa’s hand once more. 

“Metahumans are unlike anything anyone has ever faced before. You’re not less than just because a woman with abilities we can’t even begin to comprehend wormed her way into your head. That is not a reflection of you or your skills.” 

“But I wanted to kill her,” Nyssa said quickly. “You were down and on the ground and she was digging in my brain, I could feel her, and she was ripping open things I had long since closed and I wanted to slit her throat.” 

“But you didn’t!”

“I did not. Because of Sara. She hated killing, she absolutely hated it and it haunted her that she had murdered people- and I stopped for you as well. Your friendship is very important to me.”

Laurel smiled, squeezing Nyssa’s hand.

“It’s important to me, too.”

Nyssa’s eyes softened and then she sighed. Laurel knew the conversation was over. “I gave Lady Spellbinder the sedative, but we should still hurry. Palmer informed us his jet would meet us at midnight and take us straight to Star Labs, correct?”

Laurel nodded. “Yep. Caitlin will be there to keep Spellbinder sedated until we can get to Central City. We should get out of our ass kicking clothes first, right?” 

Nyssa smiled. “Yes, I suppose so.” 

The flight to Central City was long and tiring. Caitlin talked nervously the whole time, shooting glances at Nyssa that Laurel was sure Caitlin thought were sneaky and Nyssa glared at the talkative doctor the whole time. Laurel knew Nyssa enjoyed intimidating other people, but she shoved her with her foot to make her stop. Caitlin was nice and Nyssa needed people skills.

The second hour into their flight both Caitlin and Nyssa were dozing and Laurel bit back a yawn. She knew Lady Spellbinder (Cisco had named her after Spellbinder had swept through Central City leaving Barry with a massive headache) was heavily sedated, but she didn’t feel right not having eyes on her. Laurel dug around in her purse, searching for her phone when her fingers brushed against her wallet. She pulled it out before giving it another thought, pried it open and slid the card Matt Murdock had given her all those months ago in Hell’s Kitchen. She let the tips of her fingers press down into the lettering and smiled. 

She didn’t know what it was about Matt. She had never met anyone like him before. Not that she really knew him, they had only met the two times, but there was something about him that was all gentleness and security that was wrapped up in a layer of strength and ferocity that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

She would never in a million years say it out loud, but Laurel was maybe, sort of, kind of crushing on the cute lawyer from Hell’s Kitchen who had a sturdy enough sense of bravery that he decided to attempt to face down a metahuman. 

Laurel almost laughed out loud, but settled for covering her face with her hands.

A lawyer with a knack for putting himself in danger without a second thought as long as he could help others?

Gee, where had she seen that before?

She sighed, shaking her head as she pulled up one of the cotton blankets Ray provided up to settle around her shoulders before sliding her phone on. And if she googled Matt Murdock’s name- well, no one would be the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Black Canary meets Daredevil. Which will be very, very Laurel/Matt heavy. I promise. I know this was super Laurel centric, or rather Birds of Prey-y centric, but I couldn't help myself.


	4. Black Canary Meets Daredevil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally wanted this to be here on Tuesday, but I had the flu pretty bad over the weekend and then real life responsibilities got me good during the week. Also, started my second semester of grad school so that definitely took up time. Hopefully, you won't have to wait a whole other week for the final chapter. 
> 
> I don't know how I feel about this chapter, to be honest, but alas, I'm done and I don't know how I would change anything. I certainly hope you all like it, though. 
> 
> As per usual, this is not beta read so all mistakes (and I'm sure they're there) are mine. :)

BLACK CANARY TAKES GOTHAM were the headlines that Laurel woke up to as they landed in Central City. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as Nyssa and Caitlin stretched awake and she clicked on the link before giving it a second thought. Laurel didn’t care about the article, she knew it would be filled with speculation. No, what she cared about were the pictures.

Of her and Matt Murdock.

Well, of her and Matt’s back. He didn’t exactly qualify as important when it came to snapping pictures of vigilantes in action, the pictures looked as if the picture taker was trying to snap them from _around_ Matt, trying to get to her. Laurel used her fingers to zoom into the picture trying to get a look at what was happening in the picture- everything was such a blur in hindsight.

She could see they were holding hands, she remembered that and-

What was it that Barbara had said?

_I hear Daredevil is in town-  
_

Her mind stopped and everything around her became white noise.

_I hear Daredevil is in town-_

She stared at her phone, at the picture of her and Matt, fingers gripping it so tightly her skin was a pale, stern white.

_I hear Daredevil is in town-_

There were coincidences and then there were obvious to the point of painful. That afternoon she and Jessica were at the café and Matt Murdock came across them, the way that his voice sounded so familiar, so like Daredevil the night before, but she had brushed it off. He was the same height as Daredevil, the same dark scruff smattered across his face and they even had the same _laugh_ that made her spine tingle.

But there was also the glaring trait of Matt’s, well . . .- he was blind. Laurel admittedly didn’t know much about being blind, just that there were plenty of people without the ability to see who led perfectly normal lives. But there was a difference between normal lives and life as a crime fighting man in a catsuit, right?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Laurel loosened the grip she had on her phone and quickly scrolled through her contacts.

She got an answer on the third ring.

“Ms. Lance! Everything worked out okay, I hope?”

“Yes! Thank you again for all your help, but I, uh, I hope this isn’t out of line, but I really need to get to Hell’s Kitchen and I was wondering if I could use your jet?” If this wasn’t the most awkward favor she had ever asked of anyone, she didn’t know what was.

There was a pause.

“Hell’s Kitchen? Is this business, personal or heroism?”

“Would you believe me if I said all three?”

“I would, actually. You strike me as a very honest woman. So, yes. Who would the Atom be if he didn’t help out the Black Canary when she asked?”

Laurel smiled. “Thank you so much, Ray! I owe you big time.”

“Aw, don’t mention it. Maybe you could show me how to break a man’s leg in one kick? I would definitely consider us even after that.”

She chuckled and replied, “You got it. Thanks again.”

She clicked her phone off and threw it back into her purse just as Caitlin and the still heavily sedated Lady Spellbinder made their way off the Jet. There was a van a few feet away, parked and backdoor opened waiting for them. She walked with them smiling at Caitlin as she chattered away, trying to pay attention, but so utterly focused on the possibilities that awaited her in Hell’s Kitchen.

“Oh,” Caitlin said after climbing inside the van. “You’re not coming?”

“I was, but I actually need to leave to go take care of something else. Is that okay?”

Caitlin shrugged, looking down at the sedated metahuman, but Nyssa jumped in before Caitlin could respond. “I will go with her and ensure that Lady Spellbinder causes no disruptions. Unless you need me, of course.”

Laurel smiled. “No, but thank you.” Nyssa tilted her head and strode towards the van.

“Cisco will be sad you’re not coming,” Caitlin informed her. “I think he was hoping for you to autograph a certain something, but he’ll get over it.” Caitlin paled slightly as Nyssa climbed into the van.

“I’ll swing by as soon as I can,” Laurel said, biting back a smile.

“Okay,” Caitlin squeaked.

Laurel ended up waiting around inside of the jet while it was refueled and new pilots were brought on. Ray had sent her a handful of texts about that.

_I should probably call another set of pilots, right?_

Then, _  
_

_I should._

A few seconds later,

_I am.  
_

Immediately after,

_I did.  
_

_ETA: half hour, BC._

She sent him a quick ‘thank you’ text and turned her attentions back to Google. She combed through pages and pages of Daredevil news, trying to stick to articles written by people actually in Hell’s Kitchen. The more first-hand accounts the better. Laurel already knew all about the Wilson Fisk debacle, so instead she focused on smaller things like stopped muggings, stopped robberies, kidnappings, assault and the like.

It wasn’t too much of a stretch, was it?

It didn’t matter, Laurel thought. After another long flight to the other side of the continent and maybe some more planning, she’d get her answers.

* * *

Laurel figured the best way to go about this entire situation was to . . . well, corner him, she supposed. The Google alert on her phone had already went off that Daredevil had been spotted at the docks busting up a small drug situation which meant he was definitely out of Gotham and back in Hell’s Kitchen.

A tiny part of her wanted to call the number on the card Matt Murdock had given her and see where he was to get some early validation, but she thought that might be a little too obvious.

What was even more obvious?

Putting on her suit and chasing him down via Google alerts, but hey, all or nothing.

She couldn’t find any updates after the docks and so Laurel made her way there. In Hell’s Kitchen, she didn’t really have a choice but to travel by rooftops and Laurel made an effort to text Barbara that as soon as she could which got a quick “ _Nice_ ” in response.

She landed hard on a roof with her knee slamming into the hard brick. She rubbed at the skin over the leather as she rose back to her feet. The next jump gave way to an easier landing, but it also got Laurel closer to what definitely sounded like a brawl. A peek over the top of the building and down into the alley confirmed her suspicions.

It was Daredevil against at least a half dozen men. And while she didn’t doubt Daredevil’s ability to handle himself these guy seemed to know what they were doing. Laurel swung over, latching onto the rail of a fire escape and used it to glide down as quickly as she could before pushing off and plummeting to the water covered street.

Daredevil whipped his head around towards her before blocking a blow as soon as her feet touched the ground.

“Boys,” she said to him. “Always biting off more than they can chew.”

She ripped her baton off the side of her suit and slammed it into the face of the man on her right. He yelped, hands coming up to cover his nose. Laurel swung around for the man on her left but he ducked and struck out at her middle. She stumbled, grunting, but caught his next blow and turned his arm in hers into a painful grasp before slamming her fist into his face. She kicked him away and he collided with the wall and sank to the floor.

Laurel dodged a blow from another man who adorned a tattoo on his left cheek, but his meaty fist caught her in the face on his second shot. She could see Daredevil a few feet away handling two men at once as her head whipped back and to the side. Her neck ached painfully and her choker dug into her flesh.

“Stupid costumed bitch,” tattooed guy spat at her.

Laurel licked the inside of her cheek tasting blood.

“I prefer ‘ _loud_ costumed bitch’, if you don’t mind,” she retorted. Laurel opened her mouth and screamed. Her choker, the Canary Cry Cisco had named it, came to life. _Rude_ tattooed guy found himself stumbling backwards, clutching his ears as the sonic scream ricocheted off the walls of the alley and pierced through the air. The others followed suit, falling to their knees and Daredevil with them. Laurel faltered at that, snapping her mouth shut and silencing the Canary Cry tech. She stood up straight, placing her arms in front of her, linking her fingers and cracking her knuckles. “Encore?”

Tattooed guy’s eyes widened. He stumbled to the side, backing away from Laurel and his partners followed suit. “L-let’s get the hell out of here.” Laurel looked over at Daredevil for a signal to stop them but he was on his knees, hunched over and hands planted on the ground with his fingers curled into the asphalt. The goons didn’t pay her any heed as they scampered away.

“I could stop them,” she offered. “With another cry.”

Daredevil shook his head violently. “No,” he gasped. “No.” He sounded in immense pain and she wondered what had been done to him when she was preoccupied. Laurel sprinted towards him, kneeling down and wrapping her arm around his bicep.

“Are you hurt?” She ran her hands over his chest and back looking for a wound, but found nothing.

“My- my _head_.”

“Here, sit down.” Laurel helped maneuver him into a sitting position up against the brick wall. The street lamp reflected off his skin and then she could see how pale he was and how he was drenched in sweat. She went to go push his mask off to expose more of his flesh to the night’s air, but he caught her wrist in a tight grip.

“You’re sweating and-“

He shook his head sharply. “Not from heat.” His hand was still encapsulated around her wrist as she reached towards his face, letting her hand rest upon his cheek. “I think,” he whispered. His voice was quiet and shaky, and she pressed her hand further, cupping his cheek. “I think my ears are bleeding.”

That was . . . an interesting injury.

_Oh, god._

“Did- did I do that to you?” She asked, her voice was barely above a whisper.

Daredevil covered her hand with his. “It’s alright.”

“Oh, god,” she said. Her voice cracked on the last syllable. “I am so _sorry_. This has never happened before. I don’t even know-“

“It’s alright,” he repeated. “It’s alright. All your cards are on the table now. I know exactly what’ll happen if I get on your bad side.” His lips had quirked up, and the sweating had subsided, but _his ears were bleeding_.

“It’s not funny.”

“Let the guy with the blood coming out of his ears decide what’s funny, okay?” There was a teasing edge to it, but she still felt her cheeks color with shame.

“I am so sorry,” she said again.

“Stop apologizing,” he rested his hands on her shoulders, fingers curled into the leather. “Could you help me up?” Laurel quickly reached out, wrapped her arms around his waist and heaved him up onto his feet. He leaned against her, legs shaky as he walked with her. He swung his head like he was shaking it clear and wrapped his arm tight around her waist. “So, Black Canary,” he said. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?” She kept her steps short and measured to match his own.

“Following a hunch.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat. “That’s all you’re gonna give me? Starling City to Hell’s Kitchen- that’s a long way to travel for just a hunch.”

“I came over from Gotham,” she lied. “That’s not far at all.”

Daredevil gave a short laugh before replying, amusement coated in his voice, “Yes, I heard the news reports.” His fingers pressed further into her side, pulling her closer whether out of necessity or not, Laurel wasn’t sure. “I think I might need your help getting home.”

“Of course! Really, whatever you need. I am so sorry. This has never happened to anyone, even the people that I’ve meant to hurt. I mean, I don’t mean to hurt _hurt_ them, but-“

“I know what you mean.”

“Maybe the tech is faulty.”

Daredevil shook his head. “It’s not your tech, which is impressive by the way. It’s me. I have, well, heightened senses.”

Laurel halted her steps, turning to face Daredevil. His hand, she noticed, stayed resting on her waist, as comfortable as could be. “You’re a metahuman?” She asked. She hadn’t read anything that hinted towards that in any of her searches about the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, before or after her suspicions.

“Ah,” he said taking a moment. “No. I’m human. It’s just . . .”

“Complicated?” She offered.

He nodded, with a smirk tilting his lips. “Complicated.” He tugged her along after him. “I’m not far from here.”

“I practically kill Daredevil and I still get to see his HQ?”

He paused at that but looked at her swiftly. “It was an accident and you’re the Black Canary. Do you know what they say about you?”

“I don’t spend a lot of time googling myself. Do you?”

“No, but I spend a lot of time googling you.” Laurel was blushing and she really hoped that whatever complicated other worldly thing that he could do didn’t allow him to know that. “One hero disappears, another rises up in their place to protect their city. I just found you to be admirable. I wanted to learn more.”

Laurel didn’t really know what to say. He was complimenting her and it made the inside of her belly loose. It reminded her of standing with Matt back in Gotham and the goosebumps that had littered her skin, and the flopping in her tummy and it hit her square in the face.

This _was_ Matt Murdock.

It _had_ to be.

She didn’t know how to approach that particular subject, walking with a limping Daredevil as blood leaked from his ears, so instead she said, “It took people awhile to realize I wasn’t the Canary.”

Daredevil shook his head. “I wasn’t one of them. I knew right away. You don’t fight the same.”

Laurel nodded. “The Canary had more training than I did.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.”

Daredevil still seemed shaken, but his steps became more solid and sure. A layer of sweat still lined his face and she was afraid to ask about the bleeding. “I’m just around the corner here.” His arm now rested across the top of her shoulders. He stopped suddenly, halting her with him.

“What’s wrong? Is it your ears?”

“No,” he said. “There’s a woman and her son three blocks south. They’re being held at gunpoint.”

Laurel practically did a double take. That was definitely beyond complicated. That was more borderline metahuman, but he had been certain that wasn’t his particular case. But again, the man could hear three blocks away. It made her head hurt, but she wasn’t about to push. So she carefully asked, “You can hear that?”

He turned his head to look at her, arm still outstretched across her shoulders. “Yes.” He took a step towards whatever disruption his sensitive ears could pick up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” She moved to stand in front of him, placed her hand on his chest and gave him a firm push backwards.

“That woman and her son are being taken at gunpoint. They’re on foot still and I can catch them.”

“I’m aware, but you’re in no shape to go chase down some guy and his gun. Go home. I’ll take care of it."

He turned his body towards her and with the glint of a street lamp she could see his eyes. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He was standing so close his fingers brushed hers and she shivered. “Yeah, okay.”

“Three blocks south, you said?” Laurel backed away with a grin.

He nodded and watched her as she went. “Try not to shatter any glass,” he yelled.

She looked over her shoulder, fake blonde tossing about as she did. “I’ll keep it old school for you, Daredevil.”

Laurel could hear his laugh follow her as her boots slammed against the pavement. It warmed her, that he trusted her to do this- to watch over his city and he had acquiesced so easily, so sure that Hell’s Kitchen was safe in her hands. She wasn’t about to let him down, but she wasn’t going to let this distract her from her main goal either. But that would hold until _after_ she saved the woman and her son.

Priorities and all that.


	5. And the Meetings End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt decides to put an end to the constant back and forth meetings with Laurel. Or the time that Matt hops on the next plane to Starling City to ask his favorite superhero on a date and Laurel is super tired (seriously has she slept since the Gotham chapter???) and they mutually geek out over each other. *sigh* Idiots in crush mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES. Its been 84 years! Well, a month, actually, but that is about three weeks longer than I wanted to get this chapter to you? Alas, grad school tried to murder me and I had a social life coming at me pretty hard there for awhile and this chapter was actually like pulling teeth, but I did it! And I'm pretty happy with it. I have no clue when I'll start the sequel, but I do plan on writing a Laurel/Cisco fic (a one-shot, nothing too serious). Anyways, I do hope this final installment doesn't disappoint! Thank you to everyone who has commented, given kudos, and just read this silly little thing. I appreciate every single one of you! And I'm glad you love crackships as much as I do! :)

Laurel had just knocked the gun from the attacker’s hand, and watched it skitter across the floor as the mother and her son ran into a store for help. She took the momentum and knocked him on his ass. She could hear them inside calling the police and telling the man behind the counter what had happened, so Laurel, assured the goon wasn’t getting up anytime soon, turned on her heel and headed back in the direction she had come from. 

Naturally, that was when her phone went off.

Felicity’s picture and name flashed across the screen. Something unpleasant settled in Laurel’s gut and she knew whatever Felicity was going to say as soon as she answered was going to be bad. 

“Hey,” Laurel greeted. 

“Hey,” Felicity repeated. “I know you’re off in Hell’s Kitchen, I talked to Ray, but you need to get back here ASAP.” 

“Do you need me for something important because I’m kind of in the middle-“ 

“It’s your dad, Laurel.” 

She felt the breath leave her lungs. Her legs felt like led and she could taste bile in the back of her throat. 

“He’s alive, Diggle just put him in the back of an ambulance now. The bullet went right through his upper left shoulder. He should be okay, but I thought you’d want to be here.” 

Laurel’s throat tightened and her eyes burned from unshed tears. 

“He’s okay?” She whispered. Her voice broke and a tear careened down her cheek. Laurel could feel her knees wobbling. 

“He was talking, barking orders even. I’m no doctor, but things were looking good.” 

Laurel nodded, bopping her head up and down, before remembering that Felicity couldn’t see her. “Okay. Thank you. I’m on my way.” 

“Of course,” Felicity’s smile was tangible in her voice. “I’ll keep you updated. Have a safe flight.” 

It wasn’t until Laurel had changed out of her gear, into a pair of faded jeans and a red t-shirt and sat rigidly in a seat aboard Ray’s private jet that she remembered she hadn’t finished what she had came to do. 

She hadn’t gotten to the bottom of the Daredevil/Matt Murdock conundrum. Not that she could have done much. She didn’t even know where he held base in that little neighborhood he had taken her to. And it didn’t matter. Her dad was hurt and he needed her and she needed to see him with her own two eyes, feel him in her arms with his heartbeat against her chest and his gruff laugh in her ears. 

_“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going anywhere,”_ he had said years before, after Sara had died (the first time) and her mom had left, and she needed to hear him say it again. 

So Matt Murdock or Daredevil or whatever name he went by, would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

“Laurel,” Quentin said firmly, but with exasperation imprinted upon every syllable. “I’m fine. It itches like a goddamn bug bite, but other than that I am fine.” 

“You were shot.” 

“People get shot all the time and walk away with no problem!” 

Laurel rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, and plenty of people get shot and then die afterwards. Humor me, please!” 

Her dad’s eye roll was impressive enough to rival hers. She reached over, ignoring his sigh that was more dramatized than anything, and fluffed his pillow, using her fist to punch and morph. She pushed the blue plastic cup, filled with cool water towards him and watched him gulp it down with a pointed stare and eyebrows hiked up as far as they would go. 

“I’m pretty sure you went to law school,” he said. “Not medical school.” 

“Funny.”

“Should I do stand up?” Laurel glared in response. She turned and plopped down into the seat next to his bed. “No,” Quentin waved his hand back and forth. “Absolutely not.” 

“What?” Laurel all but shouted. She was so tired and a little sore if she was honest with herself. The very last thing she wanted to be doing was bickering with her dad who was recovering from a _gunshot_ wound. 

“Baby, I love that you wanna spend your Friday night with your old man, but you look ready to drop. Go home. Get some rest.” 

“Dad-“ 

“Laurel, I’m your father and I’m telling you that I am fine and all I’m gonna do is sleep. So go home. I’ll be here in the morning for you to yell at, alright?” 

“I can sleep here too!” 

His eyebrows hiked up even higher than before. “Here? In that chair? You’re gonna wake up with a kink in your neck and you’ll be uncomfortable the rest of the day. Go. Home. Do I gotta call security and have them kick you out?” 

Laurel scoffed, “You wouldn’t do that.” 

Quentin looked at her. “Oh, I think we both know that I will.” 

Laurel narrowed her eyes and rose from her seat. “Fine. I miss my bed anyways.” Her dad cracked a grin, raising his good arm up and off the bed to reach out for her. She leaned into him, unable to hide her own smile. “I love you, dad,” she whispered into his neck. “You can’t leave me.” 

Quentin kissed her hair. “I love you, too. And I’m not going anywhere.” He ruffled her hair as she leaned away and he grabbed onto her arm quickly. “But if you really love me you’ll bring me a real breakfast when you come by obnoxiously early to check on me. I’m talking sausages, pancakes, the works.” 

Laurel rolled her eyes, laughing despite the seriousness of what had happened. “Fine.” 

She felt guilty leaving him, and then felt even guiltier when she all but melted at thought of sleeping in her own bed for the first time in days. She had the place to herself since she knew Nyssa was away doing whatever it was that Nyssa did on her own time. Laurel tried to respect her privacy and didn’t pry. Nyssa would tell her if she wanted to.

Laurel was almost to her building when it started to drizzle, little raindrops splashing on the tip of her nose and coating her hair in a layer of frizz. She pulled her coat around her a little tighter and checked her phone for any messages the hospital could have left her as she ascended the stairs of her building. Her phone showed its regular lock screen with no messages to notify her of. She sighed, taking the stairs two at a time. Laurel idly wondered if Ray would let her use his jet again to go scope out the Daredevil/Matt Murdock situation, but maybe that was taking advantage of friends in high places.

Her apartment was dark and felt empty without Nyssa. She shrugged out of her coat, plopping it onto the coat rack and made a direct line into her bedroom. Laurel threw herself down onto her bed, a sigh of contentment escaping her as she did.

So naturally that was when her doorbell rang. 

She debated on whether or not she should get up. On one hand, she was extremely comfortable and felt that at any moment the bed could absorb her and claim her as its own, but on the other hand there was someone at her door. There was never anyone at her door these days. 

She groaned, stumbling back into the hallway. She suspected it might be Nyssa, but Nyssa never forgot her keys and even if she did she’d find another way in that didn’t involve a knock on her door. It could be Thea. They had been leaning on each other for some time now- ever since the reveal about Sara and things had calmed down in Starling City where the League was concerned. 

One look through her peephole told her both guesses were incorrect. 

Both of her assumptions were so far off from reality she wanted to laugh. Instead, she stood there, hands laid flat upon the door and a nervousness she hadn’t felt in a very long time thrumming through her body. 

Another knock sounded and Laurel jumped. Her hands flew to her chest, trying to clasp her heart and keep it from beating a hole right through her. 

“Coming!” She all but shrieked. Laurel cringed and took a step back, running her fingers through her hair and pulling her shirt down, smoothing it out. She pulled the door open too fast and it knocked her back a little. 

You’d never guess she had spent the past year and a half being trained by a lethal assassin. 

“Hello!” Laurel winced. The shrillness of her own voice grating her. 

Matt Murdock didn’t seem to care. Standing in the middle of her doorway, with his cane held loosely in his hands. His smile was just as loose and it warmed her down to her toes. “ADA Lance,” he replied. 

“Here for some legal help?” She joked, leaning up against the door, hand held tight around the knob. 

“Not exactly,” Matt said quietly. “May I come in?” 

“Of course!” Laurel swung the door open wider and stepped back, giving him room to enter. 

It wasn’t just that Laurel found Matt to be attractive that was leaving her so high strung. It was her suspicions that she held, that she hadn’t spoken out loud yet that were pushing her out of her own skin. 

Confronting Oliver about his double life as a vigilante had been almost easy. Once she learned the truth, it all fell into place and the little differences she had seen in him became huge differences that slammed the hammer down upon the playboy façade he had continued to peddle. 

This was very different. 

Matt Murdock was no Oliver Queen. She didn’t know Matt past two encounters (four if he really was Daredevil, and Laurel was very, very sure that he was). Plus, he was blind (which actually convinced her even more. Maybe he wasn’t actually blind. Maybe he pretended to be to give him a certified cover. What did she know?). 

“You’re thinking very loudly,” he mock whispered. 

“What are you doing in Starling City? Let alone my doorstep?” She asked. Offense sounded good. “When we parted ways you offered me your legal help, not the other way around.” He laughed.

“That’s true, but no I’m actually here for a personal reason.”

“Personal, huh?” She couldn’t remember the last time she was so _nervous._ “Hey, are you doing alright? Last I saw you were in Gotham-“ 

“Getting saved by the Black Canary,” Matt interrupted, smile plastered on his face. 

“Did you need saving?” 

He paused. “Yes. That woman, the metahuman, was very good at what she does.” 

“Mind manipulation is . . . unsettling.” Laurel thought of Vertigo with Sara leering at her with a grin that was never hers and a punch that she never would have thrown. Unsettling was a word for that, yes. “So you’re here on personal . . . ?” 

Did it make her a coward if she threw the ball in his court? 

_Oh, of course_. 

Was that why he was here? Did he know that she was the Black Canary? Why else would he be here? Standing in her apartment? _  
_

Matt cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. She didn’t know him very well, but she wanted to label him as nervous. Which actually made her feel better since she felt like she was going to throw up at any moment. And her palms were sweaty. She wasn’t really a sweaty palm kind of girl, but Matt Murdock seemed to bring that out in her. 

“Were you in Hell’s Kitchen recently?” He asked before adding quickly, “I thought I saw you.” Laurel’s stomach stuttered, but then- but then she knew a fishing question when she heard one. It was all the confirmation she needed. 

Laurel leaned back against the wall, kicking her foot behind her to rest flat against it and crossed her arms over her chest. Maybe he couldn’t see her nonchalant pose (oh, but she suspected he could), but it helped to fill her with confidence that eased her belly and dried her palms right up. 

She made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “Is that what has you flying across the continent? To ask me if you’ve seen me around town recently?” Laurel quirked her head to the side, tongue pressed against her cheek, amusement flooding through her. “I just feel like that’s an awful long distance to travel and the airfare? That does not come cheap. Do you have frequent flier miles?” 

Matt looked caught off guard, and Laurel rather enjoyed it. 

“Uh,” Matt faltered. “Uh, no. I don’t have frequent flier miles. Do you?” 

Laurel stared at him and he looked back at her with an expectant look pulling at his features. “Do you really want to make small talk or do you want to ask what I know you’re dying to ask?” 

“You asked me a question. I was answering it. I don’t believe in being rude.” 

“I was patronizing you!” 

“I’m getting that now,” he said, setting his cane to lean against one of her side tables. 

“I’m not folding first, you know,” Laurel told him, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps towards him. 

“Fold what?” Innocence was swimming through his tone. Oh, he was good. Laurel narrowed her eyes at him and waited. A few seconds of complete silence passed before he put his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll fold.” Laurel practically beamed. “You’re the Black Canary.” And then Laurel practically choked on her own spit. “You weren’t specific on what I had to fold on exactly!” 

“Unbelievable!” 

“I know I’m right. Feel free to admit it at any time.” The smirk on his stupid, adorable and very handsome face only made her more indignant. 

“How would you even know something like that?!” 

Matt shrugged. 

“You’re not going to tell me,” she said. 

“Maybe another time,” he told her. “I don’t want to freak you out.” 

“You know what freaks me out?” She took a step closer to him, poking him in the chest with her index finger and what a firm chest it was. “The horns on your costume. I mean, what’s going on with that, huh? Is that you poking fun at the media? Or is it something a little more serious? Is that how you see yourself, Matt Murdock? A devil in sheep’s clothing with only hostility brimming under the surface?” 

Matt laughed, but it was absent of any humor. “You’re more close than I like.” 

He hadn’t denied it, didn't even bat an eyelash at her, so she went for it. “You’re Daredevil.”

“Did you have any doubts?” 

“A few,” Laurel admitted. “I mean, you are blind. Or is that a façade?” 

Matt shook his head. “No. I am blind, well, in the most basic sense. I . . . I can see in other ways.” 

“Right,” Laurel said. “And these other ways of seeing? That’s how you knew who I was?”

He nodded. “I didn’t know the first night I met you, but the next day, running into you. I knew then.” 

“Then?!” She was doing an awful lot of shrieking tonight.

Matt had the audacity to chuckle at her.

“You knew this whole time?” Matt nodded, and had the good sense to look just a little sheepish. 

“Every hero deserves to keep their identity a secret, if that’s what they wish.” Laurel could feel her cheeks heat and she was a little glad that he couldn’t see that.

“When I came to Hell’s Kitchen last night-“ 

“I know,” he interrupted. “Well, I suspected and you weren’t stepping on any vigilante toes. I heard you coming and I had my guesses as to why. I wanted you to know.” 

“Oh,” she said. She tucked her hair behind her ears, wanting to occupy them as the nervousness started to sink back into her. “I left really abruptly last night and-“

“I understand,” he said. “How’s your father doing?”

“Wait. How do you know that? You get Starling City news in Hell’s Kitchen?” Laurel asked incredulously. Would that have even made the news? 

“Not exactly,” Matt said vaguely. He took a deep breath. “I heard your conversation.” 

Laurel was confused. “You were there? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Matt shook his head slowly and licked his lips. “No,” he answered simply. “I was in my home.” He said it so matter of fact that all she could do was blink. Blink and stare and try to process what he had just said. Then she remembered how he had heard the mugging from block and blocks away.

“You,” she started, crossing her arms over her chest again. “You were in your home?” Matt nodded. “Right. Just like when you heard that woman and her son were being held at gunpoint that was very far away?” 

“Would you call that very far away?” 

“I would.”

“Oh. Then yes.” 

“Yes,” Laurel repeated. “Yes. Okay, I’m gonna table that for the next time as I try to process this.”

Matt grinned. “Okay. You do have talents of your own. You did nearly shatter my eardrums, after all. Any glass in the vicinity was definitely a goner.” 

Laurel laughed lightly and then winced, remembering how pale he was after enduring her Canary Cry. How he had trembled and how blood had leaked from his ears. “I’m really sorry about that.” He waved his hand in the air, brushing it away. “I only wanted to help.” 

“You did,” he promised. “You also left me pretty impressed. I had read about the Canary Cry, even caught it a few times on YouTube, but the real thing?” Matt whistled. “Impressive is doing it a disservice.” 

Laurel blushed. _Again_.

“ _You’re_ impressive!” She blurted out. He smiled wide enough that she thought she could count his teeth. “I mean you singlehandedly took down Wilson Fisk. A disease your city didn’t even know it had.”

“I had some help.”

Laurel nodded and replied, “Right. Being solo while wearing a mask doesn’t ever work out, does it? But I think that’s a good thing.”

“How so?” 

“My sister once said that we need people in our lives who don’t wear masks. They keep us grounded. Remind us who we are.”

“That’s sound advice.” Matt sounded wistful and Laurel knew he was thinking of the people in his life that didn’t carry the same weight. 

Laurel yawned, deep enough to make her eyes water and have her falter backwards.

“It’s late,” Matt noted, sounding very amused. “I should go. I just wanted to, well, introduce myself, I guess.”

Laurel laughed as she wiped her eyes. “That’s a term for it.” 

Matt grabbed his cane from its resting place and headed for the front door. He stopped just as his fingers grazed the doorknob and then he spun back to face her. She stared at him, wide eyed and expectant. “Laurel,” he said and then shut his mouth just as quickly.

“Yes?” She prompted. 

He laughed and she really, really liked the sound of his laugh. “I also wanted to know if, um, if you’d like to meet me for coffee tomorrow? The only flight I could get was later in the evening so my day is free. If you’re busy-” 

“Coffee?” Could he hear her heartbeat? If he could, then he must have heard it hammering away, stutter, and then resume its imitation of a hummingbird in her chest. “Like a good cup of Joe between friends? Or…?” She trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud and then have him quickly correct her and then have her wanting to throw herself out the nearest window. 

“Or a date,” Matt suggested. “Unless I’ve read everything wrong, in which case I will slink back to Hell’s Kitchen and continue to be a low key Black Canary fanboy.” 

Laurel busted out laughing. “Low key Black Canary fanboy?” 

“I have an action figure,” he admitted, sheepishly. “And maybe a Google alert on my phone.” 

Laurel laughed so hard her sides started to hurt and her cheeks ached. 

“I have a Google alert of Daredevil on mine, too,” she offered, still smiling bright and wide. Matt smiled back and Laurel couldn’t remember the last time she felt so giddy. “Coffee sounds good. A coffee date sounds even better.” 

“To me too.” 

That night, Laurel laid in the dark with the small screen of her phone lighting up her room as she read everything she could find on Matt Murdock. She didn’t feel too bad about researching the man she was going to go on a date with in the morning. He had tracked her apartment down all on his lonesome, so she was sure he’d done his own kind of research. Her eyes drooped and she made a promise to herself to never tell a soul which page of Google she finally decided to call it quits on. 

Before she fell asleep, she prayed to whoever was listening that some guy with a complex who thought he was a supervillain didn’t crash her date with Matt. 

(She wasn’t so lucky.)


End file.
